Highlights

Breeze Brewin“Brew’IN Control’”

A few words to the wise: there are no kings, there is no city, and when it comes to this rap shit, Breeze Brewin just might be the greatest of all time. On the low though, he’s also a school teacher. Learn:

“Brew’IN Control’”

A few words to the wise: there are no kings, there is no city, and when it comes to this rap shit, Breeze Brewin just might be the greatest of all time. On the low though, he’s also a school teacher. Learn:

“Kaksonen 1”

Too often, “collaborations” are little more than different musicians each independently playing their obvious parts. The ego does not retreat; even as every voice gets their say, there is no conversation happening. It’s all a lot of yelling and trying to be heard. It’s a humbling thing then to hear different musicians make conversation seem so effortless and genuine, and to hear them strike such an elegant balance between distinction and disappearance.

I had the privilege of talking with Mamiffer and Locrian about this very thing last year. I didn’t learn much about the technicality of collaborations. I only learned that it takes particular personalities, that is, those fundamentally open to the very possibility of collaboration. The situation — the recording studio, the equipment, and even the talent — only determines so much. It really is, instead, a posture of openness, an “ethic of conversation,” that clears the way for making something truly effective, collaboratively.

What I then mean to say — with absolutely shameless, uncritical praise and admiration — is that it’s no surprise to me (at all) that Mamiffer and Circle were able to make this work, together. Below is only one stunning example of this extraordinary collaboration. And believe me when I say that you should look forward to hearing the others as well.

“Kaksonen 1” is from Enharmonic Intervals (for Paschen Organ), a collaborative album by Mamiffer & Circle, which will be released October 13 on SIGE Records.

You make a “copeland” YouTube channel, of course! Yep, Inga’s gone and filled in the missing vowels to pave the road to a brand-new track. “Fit” floats through the brain with light, chattering percussion and super-soft buried vocals, unlike her front-and-center presence on Higher Powers. And just as the track signs off, it returns in a little dessert bowl of dubby gelatin. Is this from a forthcoming EP? An album? Did Inga produce this? [Update: yes.] Did Scratcha DVA? [Update: no.] Is Inga still part-owner of World Music? [Update: no.] Does Inga own this on DVD/Blu-ray?

“dæmodem”

Put your fist in your brain for this one. All the way in.
Your brain is a computer, and it needs to be rewired.
Open up your head with a pair of pliers.
Trust me. Put your fist in your brain for this one. Take a drag.
Pull out the wires. They’re all over the place now. You made a mess.
Put your fist in for this. Put your fist up for this. Trust me.
You’re going to want to film this.

This is CVLT45, for god’s sake. Everything you look at, from tonight on, will be filtered through a thousand GIFs of World Star Hip-Hop fights and twerking instructional videos, mixed with 10,000% grimy, chopped-and-screwed ghetto-blaster synth-flavored malt liquor. After a night of pounding 40’s in the trap and recording your ramblings into melodyne, this is the music that you wake up the next morning thinking you should delete immediately.

CVLT45, part of Memphis’s Spoiler Alert collective — a group of artists who are actively deconstructing and satirizing the notion of trap and electronic beats, and champions of glitchy, VHS-quality nihilism — have released an EP of brand new material. Ever wish the music you listen to was a little less gosh-darn friendly? These aren’t your dads 808s.

“Grim in the Fridge”

It’s the first time you’re driving alone at night. The air is right with the wind, breezing slightly through the car, and the person coughing in the front seat is either high or dying or both, but dragging ‘em out of the country road ditch was a much better idea than running ‘em over ‘cause maybe there’s money for gas in the wallet, since you’re running low, and five fast food joints you applied to last week rejected your eight years of service experience for someone younger. Yet now you’re $20 richer, and there’s a tape slipping out of the suffering/captive/hi-dying passenger inside coat pocket, so you pop it out and into your player, and rediscover the meaning of rock & roll.

And as intense as any moment can be, for the first time, your new pal pulls their arms up, revealing two sleeves of tattoos and points to the word Zully; points to his chest; points to an illustration of a Banana Head; points to the radio and says, “fucccck ittttt do thhhe ‘Grim in the Fridge’ aiiiiiin’t no Goon House in Euuuuuurope, buttttt I jusss gotta gggggg’oh.”

Goaty Tapes re-released Banana Head’s 2012 7-inch Goon House on cassette, providing way more portability to slur it all in.